Pet

*~*~*~
TWO
*~*~*
Harry did not want his dream to end; he did not want to find himself in the dungeons or back on Privet Drive. He was nestled in a sweet smelling, comfortable bed with the highest count Egyptian cotton sheets caressing his body and a cool, fragrant breeze ghosting over his skin, He snuggled deeper into his pleasant cocoon; something unfamiliar slithered around his neck. Harry batted it away and opened his eyes with a start when his fingers tangled in a chain.

His stomach lurched as reality drifted back into his sleep-dulled mind. He untangled his fingers from the smooth gold choke chain around his throat and pushed himself up into a sitting position in the middle of the antique four post bed.

The soft distinctive pop of a house elf’s arrival caused him to pull the sheets up around his nude form.

“Good morning, Master’s Pet.” The little elf bowed her head slightly. She was dressed in an immaculately clean embroidered damask napkin and stood quite still, unlike most of the house elves Harry had met. “I am Sally.”

“Good morning, Sally,” Harry responded politely, amazed at the reserved nature of the house elf.

“Master has sent you breakfast. He will visit with you later.” Harry noticed the covered silver tray on a small side table in the corner.

“Thank you,” he said and she disappeared with another soft pop.

After a quick search of the small bedroom revealed no clothing, Harry wrapped himself up in the bed sheet and shuffled over to an overstuffed armchair, snagging the breakfast tray as he passed it.

Harry nibbled at the light meal of fruit, croissants and tea, surprised that he had an appetite at all. His eyes rested on the delicate bone china dishes and a finger idly traced over one of the dragons decorating the edge. Master’s Pet, he thought, and wrapped both of his hands around the teacup in a vain effort to stop trembling long enough to actually drink without spilling it.

*~*~*~
Lucius’ finger ran down the labels on the neatly stacked files on his desk in the former Minister of Magic’s office. His eyes drifted to the bowler hat and pinstriped cloak still hanging from the corner cloak rack; he really should dispose of those relics of a previous administration. It wasn’t as if Fudge’s ghost would come back to claim them.

The forty-two year old wizard finished his list of pressing governmental matters; even in war there had to be some sort of intermediate government in place or the world would dissolve into chaos. In his wisdom, Lord Voldemort had moved several of his key players into positions of power in the post-war restructuring. Lucius had been appointed Minister of Magic.

His attention drifted back to the stack of intelligence dossiers he had discovered hidden in Fudge’s old office. The bumbling and extremely paranoid former minister seemed to have intelligence reports on almost every wizard in Britain. Lucius had quickly culled the stacks for familiar names. The thick file on Severus Snape had proven to be an entertaining bit of half-truths and suspicions. Arthur Weasley’s file had been a surprise; Lucius never realized anyone hated Arthur more than he did. His own file had proved how well the white blond wizard had covered his own tracks.

His fingers plucked a file from the middle of the pile. The label on the thick file read “Harry James Potter”. Lucius settled himself down for what would prove to be a very interesting read.

*~*~*~
Harry gazed out the window, curled up on a window seat in his bedroom prison. He could see vast manicured lawns and elaborate gardens; in a distance he saw uniform rows of trees. Harry had been alone in the room all day; a light lunch had appeared early in the afternoon, but he had not seen an elf deliver it.

Still wearing only the bed sheet, Harry had experimented with the length of fabric and had fashioned a garment vaguely resembling an Indian sari. His hand drifted occasionally to the chain fastened around his throat. He wondered if he would be provided clothing or, like a house elf, be forced to fashion a wardrobe from cast-off tea towels.

The sun was beginning its decent when Harry heard the soft click of his door unlocking.

“Hello Pet.”

*~*~*~*
Lucius examined his pet, curled up in the window seat. He had thought Harry looked like an adorable little boy wearing Severus’ nightshirt, but now, wrapped loosely in a bed sheet, he was breathtaking. The bright green eyes flickered minutely and then met his.

“Hello Pet.”

Harry said nothing. The sheet slipped off his bare shoulder, but he made no move to retrieve it. Lucius stood before him dressed in trousers and an open necked silk shirt. Although the long white blond hair was still secured in a jeweled clasp, the dark wizard’s feet were bare. Harry did not want to think of what this meant.

Gracefully, Lucius crossed the small bedroom and settled in the overstuffed armchair.

“Come here, Pet.”

Harry did not move. Lucius’ eyes narrowed at the defiance; he released his wand from a hidden fold in his shirtsleeve. As if bored, he ran his finger lightly over the polished mahogany surface.

“I know that you can resist the Imperious, little one, but there are many other curses I can use. I will excuse you just this once because you are still untrained…but understand this…If I tell you to do something, you will do it…without hesitation or reservation or I will punish you. Do you understand?”

Harry blinked and nodded slowly.

“Come here, Pet.”

Harry uncurled himself from the window seat and stood up, gathering the bed sheet around him. He began to shuffle slowly toward Lucius, being careful not to trip on the excess yardage.

“Release the bed sheet. I did not give you permission to cover yourself.”

Blood rushed to Harry’s cheeks as he let the sheet slide down his slender frame. Looking at his feet, he carefully stepped out of the puddle of cotton. He fought the urge to cover himself with his hands; he knew that would earn him a second reprimand.

As he approached the dark wizard, Lucius patted his lap. Harry’s legs trembled as he perched on one trouser clad thigh. He sat stiffly with his hands clasped into his lap. The blush had spread over his entire body.

Lucius casually wrapped his arm around the young wizard, his hand slowly caressing a lightly furred thigh. His other hand ran over the slight patches of hair on his chest. Lucius could see a heaver trail of hair beneath Harry’s navel; the trail was obscured by Harry’s hands. Although Harry’s face held a controlled look of indifference, Lucius could feel the sprite’s heart beat rapidly against his chest.

Lucius was both amused and impressed. Harry stared straight ahead, not looking at him. Lucius leaned over and nipped his ear lobe; Harry’s breath hitched, but he did not turn his head. The white blond wizard suppressed a smile; he could only hope if the situation had been reversed, that Draco would put on as brave a face.

“So, Pet,” Lucius asked quietly, “How does it feel to lose your magic?”

Harry glared at the white blond wizard, but softened somewhat at his expression; it had not been meant as a spiteful question.

“Empty…hollow…it’s hard to explain.”

“Does it hurt?

“It did when it happened…it was worse than Crucio…but it’s a death in the family kind of ache now.”

Reaching up, Lucius tugged on the choke chain around Harry’s neck, pulling the pale face toward him. He captured the pink lips in a chaste kiss. Harry’s emerald green eyes widened; Lucius had forgotten how beautiful they were. He kissed Harry again, a little more firmly. His arm snaked over the slight shoulders, holding Harry close.

“Severus always complained about what an arrogant brat the Boy Who Lived was…”

“Don’t call me that,” Harry whispered.

Lucius smiled. “Call you what? Arrogant? Brat?”

“The Boy Who Lived.” Harry closed his eyes, his face showing more emotion than he had previously shown. “I’ve always hated that name. It was my mother’s sacrifice, not mine.”

Lucius kissed the curse scar. “Such a modest little pet. But you forget…I’ve seen your Slytherin side, my little Gryffindor…and I’ve also seen you fight.”

“Mc-McGonagall said it’s sheer dumb luck.”

Lucius’ hands stroked the rat’s nest that was Harry’s hair. He captured the soft lips again. “Perhaps the troll and Hagrid’s three-headed dog was dumb luck…and Quirell was a bit of an idiot…but you destroyed a basilisk…Tom Riddle’s diary and set one of my house elves free…all before you were thirteen.”

Accentuating each phrase with a kiss, Lucius continued, the nervousness in Harry’s eyes growing. “Sirius Black…the hippogriff…a fully formed Patronus…the Tri-wizard Tournament…a duel with the Dark Lord…Dementors…Dumbledore’s Army…the destruction of the prophesy in the Department of Mysteries…”

Lucius stood up and directed Harry toward the four-poster bed. A quick flick of his wand and the outer bedding neatly folded itself at the foot of the bed. He tossed the slight figure into the center of the bed. Before Harry could scramble away, Lucius pinned him to the mattress.

“Of course, Pet…I didn’t enjoy my visit to Azkaban…”

*~*~*~*